


Oh, The Places You Will Go!

by Val_Creative



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Action, Alternate Canon, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Exhibitionism, Explicit Language, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Introspection, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Masturbation, POV Faith Lehane, Past Abuse, Pining, Romantic Friendship, Season/Series 07, Sexual Content, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:07:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25300612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: Faith remembers her childhood. She was alone. But now, Faith has come back to Sunnydale for Buffy.
Relationships: Faith Lehane/Buffy Summers
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39
Collections: Femslash After Dark 2020





	Oh, The Places You Will Go!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nowrunalong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nowrunalong/gifts).



> I was never huge with Season 7 but I got to rewatch some for this assignment and THE FUFFY THOUGH. IT'S REAL. Hope that my giftee enjoys what I attempted and that all my fellow Fuffy fans enjoy too! Any thoughts welcomed! ❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎

*

Faith doesn't need anyone. That's what she has been telling herself for years.

It was nice, though, having Mom whenever Mom was Mom. She remembers being seven and thirsty for water, curling up on the old ratty mattress with Mom and listening to her deep, nicotine-wrecked voice. Mom would read Dr. Seuss from a picture book.

_Whether you like it or not…_   
_Alone will be something…_   
_you'll be quite a lot…_

She just didn't know how alone _alone_ it would feel.

Prison kept Faith on a schedule and with two or three meals a day. It depended on her behavior.

She liked knowing what to expect for the most part (her fellow female inmates did like to get rowdy; Faith traded intimidation for cigarettes and watermelon Jolly Ranchers; if they wanted a vengeful ass-kicking on a cellmate, Faith wanted sex. A girl's gotta get off somehow, right?).

Nobody called her Slut-O-Rama. She wasn't evil or sleazy or a psychopath — not even to the female guards who hated her.

Faith has killed and has been remorseful, been captured, imprisoned and escaped to help others.

She's not the law.

The law _sucks_.

*

Eventually, in her life, there's Sunnydale.

_Again._

Faith drives in with Willow, and she meets with the Scooby Gang.

Xander still blushes and has a difficult time making eye contact with her. Willow is happily batting for the other team now.

And _Buffy_ …

Buffy, well, she roundhouse kicks a vampire and knocks it down on its ass.

It growls, snarling with long, dripping rows of fangs exposed.

Patrolling in Sunnydale involves low visibility in the dark and mist. Slippery wet grass. It's _hell_.

Faith leaps up onto a stone-made casket, her dark brown hair flying, using the momentum in her run to whack her boot into another vampire's face. This one — dressed like a nun — merges into the shadows with its oversized, black tunic. It attempts to use a leather belt to strangle Faith.

Nun-vampires, huh?

It's _definitely_ something Faith hasn't seen before.

Some horrific and blood-curdling massacre happened yesterday, involving all four nuns visiting from a European monastery, and they were turned. Some jackass vampire pretending to be a Father Christopher. He had a lust for religious blood.

There's a bright-bleak glow of sickly green past the mausoleums.

Flames rage on the wooden scaffolding atop of an abandoned, decaying chapel, washing the shadows into velvety orangish haze. Buffy fights off two of the nun-vampires, punching and blocking, yanking on a cowl. She swings around to toss a vampire midair as the all-white veil rips off. 

Faith wheezes, snapping apart the leather belt, and gets flung violently against a iron-wrought gate.

The nun-vampires crawl in the dirt with their hair shirts loosened and wimples covered in a blackened filth. Everything smells like mud. Their pale bloodless lips sneer. "My dead mother… _still_ … hits harder…" Faith grunts, killing the one lunging at her.

She twirls her stake one-handed, jabbing it deep into the heart of a second vampire behind her.

Faith glances over her shoulder to see Buffy rolling around with the last of her two nun-vampires.

It hurtles up, hissing and disorientated.

Buffy arches her back and goes taunt, springing onto her feet effortlessly. Her golden hair shines dully in the lack of light. 

Faith synchronizes with her, hurrying forward and sinking her weapon into the nun-vampire's back as Buffy does its front. Their movements feel natural. Ebbing and flowing. Like they're both meant for this, and they are. They really are.

"Goddamn, B!" Faith dusts off her maroon jean-jacket, sounding breathless. "I've… I've seriously needed this…"

Buffy tilts up an eyebrow, resisting a grin.

"Slaying?" she mutters.

"Didn't think I would _miss_ it this much…"

There's a hint of smoke in the air. Buffy's fingers gleam with a multitude of silver rings as she reaches out, brushing a thumb to Faith's jaw. "You've missed bleeding?" Buffy asks wryly, snorting a laugh and dabbing the open cut under Faith's eyebrow.

Spiderwebs hang from the faces of grey, weather worn angels, their feet wreathed by brown-gold leaves. 

"Hey, I bled plenty while locked up. Nothing's changed." Faith basks quietly the lingering, warm sensation of the other woman before ttching. "I ain't one of the kids you're babysitting," Faith says, nudging away Buffy's hand. "I can take care of myself."

"I know you can—" Buffy's expression goes horrified, and she yells, _"—look out!"_

Faith ducks instinctively, crouching and rising up only to be met with a shovel. She barely recognizes who it is holding it. 

Her head roars.

She ends up on her knees, swaying, her vision darkening. Faith can't even hear herself gasping for air. Her hands and fingers dig into the sodden-wet earth. Faith lifts her face slowly, trying to adjust her eyes by blinking rapidly.

She pulls herself up a little, gripping onto a weeping angel tomb and hanging herself over it. 

Buffy's first rule of slaying?

_Don't die._

Faith groans out, clutching her head and hearing a splashing of water. Over by the graveyard's creek, Father Christopher lets out a maniacally gleeful noise, dragging a wincing Buffy by the ponytail as she screams in fury.

"Buffy, whh…?" Faith murmurs, confused.

It's a partly submerged, granite tomb in the creek's bed. Dead flowers littering. Buffy struggles against the powerful vampiric hold as it recites the Lord's hymns. Father Christopher's nails rake to Buffy's cheeks. It positions its hands around her neck.

Strength suddenly floods back into Faith.

_"BUFFY!"_

Faith grabs onto a rosary left behind by a nun-vampire, sprinting to Father Christopher and colliding hard into it. Preventing it from snapping Buffy's neck. "Fuck you, motherfucker!" Faith bellows, glowering and cramming the holy prayer beads to the rosary into Father Christopher's mouth.

It squeals in pain, writhing under Faith and burning alive. From its insides.

Her boot stomps onto the vampire's face, over and over, until it finally disintegrates out of existence.

 _"Fuck!"_ she bellows again, quivering and full of hatred.

Faith takes a moment to calm down before going to Buffy.

The other woman sits in the grass, clutching her neck and choking. Open-mouthed in shock. "Lemme see," Faith mutters, prying off Buffy's hand to inspect the noticeable swelling and bruises. "Hey, hey, it's okay. You're gonna be okay, B. It's all good."

"Thanks…"

Buffy's voice sounds hoarse. Wrecked in a sexy way that should _not_ be sexy, Faith thinks.

"What the hell was that?!" Faith says indignantly. "You almost let that vamp decapitate you—what if I hadn't been here?!"

"Mm'just tired…"

She's not lying. Faith can see it in her eyes: worry, fear, nervousness. Dealing with The First and training the inexperienced Potentials. Toughing out those emotions. Revealing none. No wonder Buffy has always been wound so tight.

"C'mon…" Faith whispers, grasping Buffy's arm and helping her up to walk.

*

Living over at Joyce Summers' home — now Buffy and Dawn's — is better than in a motel. 

Especially with another apocalypse looming.

Faith wanders the downstairs hallway, peeking into the living room crowded with the Potentials. Little baby-faced Slayers. They're all doomed unless her and Buffy keep it together. Xander snores from an armrest. 

No sign of Anya. Faith stole a puff of Spike's cigarette while he wanders the yard.

The kitchen seems brightly illuminated. Willow talks softly to Dawn who looks towards the hallway and frowns. Faith doesn't blame Dawn for being overly protective of Buffy. There's not been the greatest history between Dawn's big sister and Faith. 

_You're on your own…_   
_And you know what you know…_   
_And YOU are the guy that'll decide where to go…_

Faith wonders where the picture book had gone. She doesn't remember seeing Dr. Seuss again. If it was trashed after Mom spilled beer on it, or if it was left it in a boyfriend's car, or Faith's picture book got kicked into the retention pond by the trailer.

Dawn folds her arms, scrunching up her mouth.

Faith offers a half-smile, winking and heading towards the staircase. 

Up by the master bedroom, she finds the closet of towels. Buffy has to be done with the hot water by now.

Faith prepares to whistle through the dully lit crack of the bathroom, hesitating. It's the same soft pink paint on the walls. Fluffy, grey rugs. White shower curtains and porcelain. Buffy lounges in the tub, stark naked. Her golden hair elegantly dangling down.

No bubble bath like Faith expects but clear, warm water. It's an unmistakable view of Buffy's chest and her mound.

Faith's lips part.

She licks them, watching in silence as one of Buffy's hands settles between her thighs, pressing down.

Buffy's fingertips run over her vulva, stroking the folds and grinding to her clitoris.

God, _fuck_ …

Slaying does make you hungry and horny. Faith isn't welcome in the kitchen right now, but she knows Buffy is feeling the exact same urges as Faith. Post-adrenaline shakes. Dry mouth. That need for an orgasm so good it'll numb your toes from curling.

Faith's own fingers wanders over her jeans. She dips her hand into her underwear, encountering hot, wet skin.

Masturbating to her ex-enemy masturbating could be… _problematic_ …

"Faith…"

Buffy doesn't open her eyes, but stops touching herself and goes upright. Her breasts glisten, dripping water. Faith swallows hard, willing herself to not flush like some dumbass virgin seeing titties for the first time and strolls in. 

"How are you?"

"As an old friend would say…" Buffy mumbles, giving Faith a cocky look. "Five by five."

Faith's mouth widens into a grin.

There's her girl.

She drops the towel onto the closed toilet seat, straddling Buffy. Getting jostled and held possessively. Overpowered.

Faith lets out a loud laugh, wide-eyed, when the other woman pins her down and laughs too, drenching Faith in the bathwater. Their mouth slam. Faith moans against Buffy's hands diving under her clothes, feeling her up. And, well, Faith doesn't mind.

At least she's not alone anymore.

_And will you succeed?…_   
_Yes! You will, indeed!…_   
_(98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed.)…_

*


End file.
